Insomnia
by Tristana
Summary: a certain darkhaired strategist has trouble falling asleep... but why? yaoi, slight GwendalConrad, cute... rated K mainly because of the MM incest stuff


Title : Insomnia

Author: Tristana (influenced by her lemon-addicted side)

Pairing: Well, I feel like a little Gwendal x Conrad.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou's characters and it's kinda depressing as a statement. I do not make any money, I only lose time...

Warning: If you hate yaoi, seeing the two from above OOC, or simply that yoiu can't stand the slightest bit on incest, then, press the back button. If you don't, you are responsible - I guess... Since you are warned: NO FLAMES!!!!

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Insomnia

Gwendal was lying on his bed, thinking. Well, that's not exactly unusual for him to think, no, what was strange – and rather disturbing, now that you mention it – is what he was thinking about. (i.e. Conrad). Well, it was normal in the sense that Conrad was, again, running in a far away land, maou-sitting Yuri. And he felt lonely. Yeah, right… Clearly the tall, dark-haired mazoku was not really the type searching for company. Merely was he taking comfort in his smaller brother. And even cuddling some fluffy item – aka a peluche, preferably a kitten (1) – could not the replace the feeling of the other man beside him. But he might be a lone man, he wasn't egoistical – except when it comes to Annissina, then he would as selfish as he might to escape the inventor's demonic claws.(2)

To summarize the situation: Gwendal was going through insomnia's crisis… Which is not the kind of things that would improve his mood. (3) He swore, when the Maou will come back, he will suffer a Hell. For two weeks sleep had been avoiding him and the boy won't get away with it so easily.

Finally, the King and the other are back. Gwendal was nearly dancing a polka – no more paperwork! – at least no more Maou's paperwork, and requests for a lost love or those silly things!

But he was so happy that he forgot… Anissina! Thus, for four hours, he was enslaved in a horrible experiment and evil items basically called 'To-occupy-a-not-so-occupied-mazoku-kun'. Indeed, Anissina was never happier than when torturing her childhood friend.

When he was finally released – thus proving the existence of God – it was dinner time. But he was exhausted and despite all his willpower and training, he wasn't sure to make it to the dining room. He retreated to his own room and let himself drop not-so-graciously-but-who-cares on the mattress. Surely enough, Morpheus would take him by the hand – after such a treatment. (D: To bad, I paid Morpheus.) He turned, and kicked and crawl and got head over heels. Nothing. He couldn't sleep. He was getting frustrated. He was so frustrated that he wasn't tired anymore. He got up and went to the bathroom, hoping that a bath would relaxe his nerves enough for him to get some rest. Once in his bath, (T: A rubber duck?) (D: No!) (Voldemort: Ducky!) (D&T: Get out! It's not your fandom!), he allowed his mind to wander for a while. In years – centuries? – of existence, he had never experience such a state of tiredness. He was not subject to insomnia, after all. Minutes passed. He began to rise from the tub when two gentle hands pressed down on his shoulders, soft voice breaking the heavy silence: "You look tense." And with no further explanation, a movement in the water indicated that the one speaking joined him in the bath. (T: if he wasn't tense before, now he is.) Soon enough, hands began massaging his shoulders, tugging at the knots, breaking them. Gwendal leaned into the touch, feeling like he was going to sleep.

"Not yet." Murmured the ever calm voice near his ear. To near. Gwendal turned his head on the left, only to start to drown in hazel depth. He smiled. Not for long, because soft lips pressed against his own. He closed his eyes and let the younger one do whatever he wanted to his lips and mouth. A hot tongue sneaked in and a smirk played on his features before he started to suck gently at it, playing for a time before returning the favour. The hands soon left his shoulders to trail down his flanks, then up his chest. He let his head rest on the other shoulder, leaning in the touch. Everyone, one day or another needs to be touched and Gwendal was no exception. Suddenly, a hand left him to retrieve the shampoo.

"I hope you're aware of the fact that I've already washed my hair."

"Absolutely, but I want to do it anyway." Thus, Conrad poured shampoo in his hand and start massaging Gwendal's skull, then letting his hands roam through the long, inky strands. His brother's hair always amaze him… He wonder how could he live like this but he wasn't one to complain, since he loved the feeling of silky strands against his finger. A chuckle emanated from Gwendal.

"What?"

The black-haired mazoku turned around, smirking "I just think it's funny, how you come and decide to occupy yourself shampooing me."

"Do you have anything else on your mind?"

"I'll tell you later. Don't want to spoil your fun."

Once Conrad finished cleansing his hair from the last remnants of lather, Gwendal rose from the tub and quickly dried himself up. He waited for Conrad, his jet black hair still dripping with water.

"Gwen, maybe you should…"

"Who is the eldest?"

"Yeah, right."

Gwendal wrapped himself up with a dry towel and got to the room, followed by a Conrad who was seriously wondering what Gwendal was driving at.

"Soon." Muttered said-mazoku while wrapping his arms around the younger one, nuzzling his nose in the crook of his neck.

Following Gwendal's lead, Conrad soon found himself lying on the king-sized bed, the other by his side.

Leaning on his elbow, the tall mazoku took in the sight of a naked-save-for-a-towel Conrad, smiling. Conrad returned the smile and let his left hand wander from his shoulder blade, down his back, before circling his waist, pulling him close. Gwendal leaned down, claiming his lips. For once, their kiss was gentle (Who said 'sweet'?) – mostly because Gwendal started to feel sleepy. Thus, he snuggled – yes, snuggled! – close to Conrad, wrapping an arm possessively across his chest. Morpheus came back and the last thing Gwendal knew was that the other man pulled the blanket on them, smiling at how cute the terrible mazoku was when it comes to sleep. Calmed down by the even breathing of the other, he drifted toward sleep, the ever present smile never leaving his features.

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(1) I have nothing to say regarding Gwendal's aptitude at knitting, since I don't know how to knit myself. And his racoon is cute! Duh.

(2) if not, then you're crazy…

(3) Is there anything which could? (Is that a sentence? If not, please, tell me.)

Note: is that me, or have I actually written some fluffy, sweet yaoi? Ooooops… too much chocolate, I fear. I'm getting nice, this won't do. Well, at least I hope you are now convinced that Gwendal is a real softie and that between him and Conrad, this is definitely him the 'peluche'…

T: I want a Gwendal!

D: We all do… -sight-

Please review! And if anyone has some pics of Gwendal with his hair untied, please send them to me (tristanavolkovahotmail.fr) THX!!!


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